“Yawn…”That was a good sleep.
Tobu stretched lightly, slowly opening her eyes.
The quiet, Japanese-style room was bathed in the soft early morning light filtering through the paper sliding doors.
Beside her, Shouko was still sound asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful.
It was still early.
…And then, yesterday’s memories suddenly flooded back.
“…Ah— You idiot, what a total idiot…”
She buried her face into the blanket, rolling to one side.
Why did I have to be so weak…And that guy Kaito—he’s genuinely dangerous.
Just a few words, and he already…
“…made me like this.”
Tobu’s face flushed red, all the way to her ears.
She lay still for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose herself.
“Calm down… calm down…”
Nope.
Think any more, and I’m done for.
She sat up immediately, slipping out of bed gently so as not to wake Shouko.
Outside, birds chirped merrily, and the air was crisp and peaceful.
So completely different from the Zenin estate…
Tobu let out a soft breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her.
“Can’t sleep?”
A gentle female voice sounded from behind her.
Tobu turned around, startled.
“Ah—no, ma’am.
I just feel… quite awake.”
She instantly stood up straight, responding politely.
Standing there was Otome—Satoru and Kaito’s mother.
Still looking as young and beautiful as ever…No, more accurately… the more you looked at her, the more captivating her mature elegance became.
“Is that so?”Otome smiled softly, her eyes twinkling with playful teasing.”Last night, I almost thought my Kaito did something to make you cry.”
“…!”
Tobu froze.
“…N-No, that wasn’t it at all, ma’am!”
She responded far too quickly for her own good.
Otome covered her mouth lightly, giggling.
“My, my… reacting that fast only makes it more suspicious.”
Tobu’s face turned bright red, leaving her with nowhere to hide.
In truth, after she cried inside the cable car last night, Kaito had escorted her all the way back to the Gojo estate.Everyone had welcomed her warmly.
Even though Tobu had wiped away all her tears… it was obvious that nothing escaped Otome’s sharp eyes.
She simply chose not to press the issue at the time.A very “adult” kind of tact.
Now that Tobu seemed better, she gently brought it back up.
“Well… actually…”Tobu lowered her voice, speaking more slowly this time.”On the contrary… Kaito helped me a lot.
I haven’t even had the chance to properly thank him…”
As she said this, her face flushed slightly again.
Otome took it all in.The smile on her lips grew clearer.
“I see…”
She tilted her head slightly, then pointed toward the courtyard.
“In that case… your chance is right over there.”
Tobu followed her gaze.
In the spacious courtyard, a figure was training.
Shirtless.
Doing pull-ups.
Running.
High-intensity physical conditioning.
His body was lean and solid, every muscle defined as if sculpted.
Sweat trickled along his contours, making everything look… all the more prominent.
“…Gulp.”
Tobu swallowed hard.
Immediately after—She clamped her own hand over her mouth.
“…!”
Oh no.
Otome stood beside her, having witnessed the entire thing.She turned her head away, trying desperately to hold back her laughter.
Well then… it seems my son’s sheer physical appeal is a bit too much for girls to handle.
“Aside from being a bit… short…”Otome remarked casually.
Tobu almost choked.
“…!”
But then she couldn’t hold it in either, bursting into laughter alongside her.
“Haha.
Yeah… that’s true.”
The two looked at each other.For some reason… they were both laughing together now.An odd kind of alliance.
“Oh well, no matter.”Otome took a sip of tea.”With him like that, it just makes me feel all the younger.”
“You’re already very young, ma’am.”Tobu accepted a cup of tea, replying softly.
It wasn’t flattery.It was a genuine, deeply feminine beauty—gentle, profound, and carrying something that made people want to place their trust in her.
“How has your health been lately, ma’am?”
“Good, thanks to Shouko.”Otome smiled softly.”Just enough for me to see my two boys grow up—that’s all I need.”
“Kaito is still looking for ways to help you, you know…”
“Is that so…”Otome’s gaze softened.
“That boy is always like that.
Always putting others before himself.”
“What do you think of Kaito?”
The question came naturally.Yet… it was completely unexpected.
“…Huh?”Tobu paused.She looked down, genuinely pondering it.
“He’s…””Very earnest.
Meticulous.
And… thorough.””He always considers others before himself.”
“…I owe him a lot.”
Otome nodded.
“Yes.”
“He understands the pain of others.””And he has a heart broad enough to embrace it all.”
“However…”Her tone slowed down.
“…I’m afraid.”
Tobu remained silent.
“I’m afraid that one day, he won’t spare a thought for his own well-being.””Afraid that in his desire to make everyone else happy… he’ll end up as the only one left behind.”
The atmosphere settled into a quiet gravity.Tobu squeezed her teacup lightly.
…It was true.
Kaito was entirely capable of doing just that.
“Which is why…”Otome turned to look at her.
“Whether it’s you, Satoru, or Shouko…”
“I hope… when that time comes, someone will pull him back.”
“…Yes.”Tobu’s voice was quiet, but firm.No hesitation.
Otome looked at her for a moment.And then—
“Ah, by the way…”Her tone suddenly shifted to a light, airy beat.
“That younger son of mine—””Smart as he is…””When it comes to romance… he’s a bit dense.”
“…!”Tobu froze solid.
“If you’re already feeling a certain way…”Otome gave her a subtle wink.”You ought to be a little proactive.”
“Woman to woman, I get it.”
“…!!!”
Tobu instantly turned her head away.Her ears burned scarlet.She didn’t dare look back.
Far off in the courtyard, Kaito was still training.Completely unaware…That he had just been gently thrown under the bus.
.
.
.
“You bastard, what the hell did you just say?”
“I made my stance very clear.”
“You dare negotiate prices with your own clan?!”
Kaito sat cross-legged in the center of the main hall, facing the ten Gojo elders—among them the Second Elder and the current family head, Gojo Sei.
Three Soul Slayer Blades lay before them, silent like a declaration of war.
“As I just said,” Kaito stated leisurely.
“If you gentlemen are hard of hearing due to advanced age, I will repeat myself.
I will distribute the Soul Slayer Blades across the jujutsu world—to ensure the balance of power—and everyone must pay.
Since I bear the Gojo name, I am offering the clan a far more favorable price than external parties.”
This was the largest concession Kaito had carefully weighed—strictly keeping personal feelings out of the equation.
Anyone capable of sound judgment would see this as a massive gain, not a loss.
But those accustomed to placing themselves above others saw it differently.
“Truly an unfilial child,” the Second Elder flicked his sleeve, his voice cold as ice.
“I thought that once you mastered the forging of this weapon, you would become useful like Satoru.
As expected, you’re still nothing more than a dead weight dragging us down.”
“If you know you carry the Gojo name, you ought to dedicate everything to the clan.
Whether they are distributed or not is for the clan to decide.
Don’t think that inventing something grants you the right to stand above us.”
Sei frowned, his displeasure obvious.
This old man was truly brazen.
Yet Kaito remained soft-spoken:
“Oh.
As expected of the Second Elder.
Decades of political power struggles, yet you can still utter such words without a shred of shame.”
Veins bulged on the Second Elder’s forehead.
Kaito raised one finger.
“First—what has the main family actually ever given me?
If you intend to bring up the First Elder, rest assured.
The money I’ve earned from selling swords is already triple the cost of his raising me.
And he is the only person to whom I owe a debt of gratitude.”
A second finger went up.
“Second—suppose I forge the Soul Slayer Blades and distribute them under the Gojo name: if they become famous, people will only remember the Gojo clan; but if someone wants to eliminate the supply source, they will target me.
Even someone like me understands that—do you mean to tell me you don’t?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, raising a third finger.
“And finally—if you intend to establish a monopoly, using the clan as a moral leash to bind me, fine.
Pay me the exact amount I plan to collect from other factions.
Not just the forging costs—but also the network of connections and information streams that come with it.
Loyalty sounds wonderful, gentlemen, and I like it too.
But loyalty doesn’t forge swords.”
Three points.
Sharp as a razor.
Striking right at the heart of the elders’ hidden motives, leaving zero room for rebuttal.
Sei sat listening, feeling a mix of admiration and quiet sadness.
Sadness not because Kaito was wrong—but because the boy had matured to such an extraordinary degree, in strength, resolve, and mindset alike.
And he himself had helped push such a person away.
The remaining elders, unable to find a flaw to counter, shifted their angle to scrutinize the blades themselves.
“What guarantee is there that your forged swords meet proper standards?
What if you favor one faction over another?”
“I am the guarantee,” Kaito replied nonchalantly.
“If a person like me—whom you always shunned for lacking cursed energy—can use it, could an ordinary sorcerer fail to do so?
Every Asauchi possesses the same baseline potential.
What creates the difference is the aptitude of the wielder—how far they can awaken its true form.”
The elders understood.
The logic was sound.
“Hmph.
The new wave pushes the old aside,” the Second Elder changed his tone.
“But have you considered the possibility that we won’t grant you freedom—that we’ll force you to forge blades just to preserve your own life?”
It might have been an empty threat.
But veins bulged on Sei’s hands.
“Second Elder.
You are crossing the line.”
“Silence.
I care far more about the clan than you, its soft-hearted Head.”
“Oh.”
A wave of intent radiated from Kaito—no cursed energy, no refined technique, purely the raw instinct of a predator backed into a corner.
“I assume you’ve heard the news of Toji wiping out nearly half of the Zenin clan.
I doubt anyone here wants a repeat of that tragedy within the Gojo family.”
“You brat, we still have—”
“Brother Satoru won’t intervene.”
A single sentence.
Quiet.
Certain.
It was enough to plunge the entire room into silence.
Enough for the elders to realize—the person holding the upper hand in this room was not them.
“Hmph,” the Second Elder reined in his posture, speaking no further.
Sei let out a long sigh.
“Very well.
In the name of the Clan Head, I accept your proposal.”He handed Kaito a black card—containing enough funds to cover Kaito’s requested sum, alongside a small extra amount he wished to grant personally.
“For now, the Gojo clan will order three blades to verify their performance.
If the results are satisfactory, there will be long-term contracts.”
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
The two shook hands.
Though father and son—there was no place for sentimentality here.
“Haha, so those old coots got spooked green by you too, huh?”
Satoru said with a laugh as he walked into the inner residence after days out on missions, his mouth still stuffed with kifuku.
“Thankfully everything went smoothly… Ah, give me one too.”
“Here.”
Satoru casually tossed over two paper wrappers, clearly having bought them in advance.
“Me too.”Tobu held out her hand, her tone entirely unceremonious.
“Violent people like you can starve.”
“…What did you say?”
A vein bulged on Tobu’s forehead.
Just as she was about to explode—
“Ow!”
Both of Satoru’s cheeks were stretched ruthlessly outward.
“Big body, but your mind is still a brat’s.
Learn from your younger brother,” Otome said, pinching her son’s cheeks without an ounce of mercy.
“Truly a fool,” Shouko added coldly from the side, tightening her grip on his other cheek.
Watching the scene unfold, Tobu’s anger cooled down significantly.
“Here, take one.”Kaito gently placed a kifuku into Tobu’s hand.
If one looked closely, he had deliberately picked out a larger one.
“Ah… um… thanks.”Tobu mumbled softly, her eyes darting away slightly.
“My, my, getting more mature, aren’t we?” Otome smiled meaningfully.
“Pity he’s still a bit… short,” Shouko sighed, her disappointment entirely unhidden.
“Haha, my little bro will always be my little bro.”
Tobu let out a quiet smile.She took a bite of the kifuku, then instinctively knit her brows.
“Ew, it’s sickeningly sweet…”
“It’s delicious, what are you talking about?” Satoru retorted immediately.
“Yeah, I think it tastes good too,” Kaito nodded in agreement.
As two wielders of the Six Eyes—whose brain function consumed absurd amounts of energy—their palates naturally diverged from ordinary people.
In that fleeting moment, they truly looked like brothers.The three women standing beside them looked at one another, then nodded in unison.
.
.
.
Out in the training yard, Kaito pulled two Soul Slayer Blades from the stomach of his inventory Cursed Spirit.
Seeing the slimy, bizarre face of the creature, all three women—Otome, Shouko, and Tobu—wryly grimaced in complete agreement: It really isn’t cute at all.
Kaito stepped forward unbothered, offering the two swords to Satoru and Shouko with a formal gesture:”As promised, I apologize for taking until today to finish them for you both.”
Satoru and Shouko took their respective blades to inspect them.
Satoru used his Six Eyes to observe down to every steel molecule, while Shouko lightly brushed her fingers along the edge to feel it.
The energy emanating from them was pure and vibrant, entirely unlike ordinary cursed energy or sterile reverse cursed technique.
Otome watched with keen interest, asking softly:”So, can this sword control ice like yours, Kaito?”
“It can, Mother,” Kaito explained.
“However, the ability of each Soul Slayer Blade depends entirely on the wielder’s soul.
Like Brother Toji—his sword can even manipulate children’s games to take down opponents.”
“Oh, so that’s how it works!” Satoru interrupted with over-the-top excitement.
“You said it has to be Shikai to release its true power, right?
Then check this out…
SHIKAI!”
Satoru held the blade high, striking an excessively flashy pose like a superhero from a movie.
Yet, ten seconds passed in absolute silence.
The wind blew, birds sang, but the sword…
remained nothing more than a cold piece of iron.
The entire training yard burst into laughter.
“Ha ha ha!”
Even Kaito, who was usually so composed, couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the biggest “blot” in the life of the man who would later claim to be the Strongest.
“It doesn’t work like that, Brother Satoru,” Kaito corrected while chuckling.
“Every Soul Slayer Blade carries its own unique soul.
How it matures depends on how its master shapes it.
You have to communicate with it and earn its recognition before you can release Shikai.”
Satoru’s face flushed red as he cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment:”Ah…
I knew that, I was just…
testing its responsiveness.”
He closed his eyes, concentrating his entire mind.
Kaito added reassuringly:”There’s no rush anyway.
Brother Toji had to be pushed to death’s door before he opened his.”
Tobu, standing nearby, lightly gripped the sword hidden in her shadow.
She had felt the heartbeat of life from it over the past few days, but that “child” had not yet opened its heart to her.
Perhaps after returning, she needed to spend far more time training.
Yet, while everyone was lost in thought, the atmosphere surrounding Satoru suddenly shifted.
An intense pressure enveloped the training yard.
The blade in his hand vibrated violently, its steel gradually turning a brilliant rose-pink and emitting a surreal radiance.
“Could it be…
this fast?!” Kaito was astonished.
Satoru opened his eyes.
His deep blue Six Eyes now reflected tens of thousands of stars.
The usual playful demeanor was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, authoritative voice:
“Chire (Scatter), Senbonzakura!”
.
.
.
Within the quiet realm of his inner world, Satoru found himself standing amidst a vast forest of cherry blossoms in full bloom.
Delicate petals drifted down, covering the ancient ground in a soft pink carpet.
And beneath the oldest cherry blossom tree—where the spiritual essence of this realm converged—a majestic figure sat enthroned.
It was a tall Samurai dressed in a noble light-purple kimono with white stripes.
A golden demon mask concealed his face, revealing only cold, deep eyes.
Red fabric streamers fluttered in the wind, merging with the pink cherry blossoms to create a scene both magnificent and lethal.
“Whoa…
Cool look!
Is it cosplay?”Satoru raised an eyebrow, his Six Eyes behind his dark sunglasses scanning every detail of the Samurai’s armor.
He felt no fear—only intense thrill before an entity bearing such immense power.
However, the playful smile on Satoru’s lips gradually faded.
The majestic Samurai—a warrior who carried the air of a war god who would bow to no one—suddenly dropped to one knee.
He bowed his head, placing his sword to his side, demonstrating absolute respect and loyalty before Satoru.
Satoru froze.
In that moment, through the soul bond, he felt centuries of loneliness, the cold edge of steel, and the unyielding will of this entity.
“You…
are the soul of this sword.”
The Samurai remained silent, but the surrounding air vibrated in response.
Satoru stepped forward, his blue eyes blazing bright, devoid of his usual child-like cheekiness.
He extended his hand, his voice echoing across the blossom forest:
“Then become my power.
Become absolutely strong, so that I can protect everyone—my brother, my mother, and my friends too.”
The Samurai raised his head.
He grasped Satoru’s hand firmly with his red-armored grip and stood up, towering a head taller than Satoru.
A burst of intent erupted, turning millions of cherry blossom petals into razor-sharp blades in an instant.
At that moment, from behind the golden demon mask, a deep, resonant voice spoke for the very first time, marking the birth of a new legend:
“Chire (Scatter), Senbonzakura!”
.
.
.
Back in reality, right after Satoru spoke the release command.
From the position of the blade in his hand, tens of thousands of cherry blossom petals suddenly burst open, breathtakingly brilliant and magnificent.
They did not fall to the ground, but scattered wildly, swirling through the air in a mystical trajectory that enveloped the vast Gojo estate.
The scene was unreal in its beauty, like a heavenly realm drifting down to Earth.
Everyone present at the Gojo estate that day later recounted: It was the most beautiful, yet coldest moment they had ever witnessed.
Inside the elders’ council room, while the old men were still grumbling in annoyance over Kaito’s arrogance, a servant burst inside in a panic, his face drained of color:
“My lords…
something big has happened!”
“What is it?
Can’t you see we’re busy discussing major clan affairs?!” the Second Elder barked.
“My lords…
please step outside and see for yourselves!”
The elders rushed outside, their hands ready with cursed energy in anticipation of an enemy attack.
But what met their eyes was not blood or fire, but a rain of cherry blossom petals floating through the air.
The beauty was so pure that even men who had spent their entire lives steeped in schemes were forced into a momentary silence.
“What is this?” the Second Elder asked, trembling.
“Sir…
reports indicate it originated from Master Satoru’s training yard.
It appears to be…
a new technique unleashed from the sword!”
Satoru…
Technique…
Sword…
Those three keywords exploded in the elders’ minds like a bolt of lightning.
“Has the boy Satoru already unlocked Shikai?!
This fast?!”
During negotiations, Kaito had clearly stated that a Soul Slayer Blade required time to “nurture” its soul.
Kaito himself had taken six years to complete his second blade.
Yet Satoru…
As expected, the “God Child of the Six Eyes” was an existence beyond all logical rules.
The Second Elder and Sei extended their hands to catch a passing petal.
But the instant it brushed their skin, a sharp, freezing sensation stabbed through them.
“What…
these are blade fragments!” Sei looked in shock at the thread-thin cut on his fingertip.
That brilliant sea of flowers was actually a ocean of microscopic, razor-sharp, endless blade edges.
Both of them were semi-Grade 1 sorcerers with formidable defensive cursed energy, yet they were easily pierced by those delicate petals.
“Enveloping a massive area, manipulated by willpower alone, claiming lives in silence…” The Second Elder swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly.
“How is this…
any different from a miniature Domain Expansion?”
Hearing those words, everyone felt a cold sweat run down their spines.
A Domain Expansion was the absolute pinnacle a jujutsu sorcerer could reach, and now, a 12-year-old boy could execute it through a single sword.
And that sword…
had been forged by the very child who possessed “zero cursed energy.”
The Second Elder stood silently amid the pink storm.
For twelve long years, he had viewed the twins as a curse, regarding Kaito as the “flawed half” dragging down the genius Satoru.
But witnessing this scene firsthand, he knew he was wrong—completely wrong.
Kaito was no burden; on the contrary, he was supporting Satoru, forging the very throne upon which Satoru would ascend to absolute supremacy.
“What are you all standing around for?!
Take action immediately!” the Second Elder suddenly shouted.
“Huh?” The servants looked bewildered.
“There are still three Soul Slayer Blades inside!
Hurry and find the most suitable clan members to cultivate!
From now on, every wielder of a Soul Slayer Blade shall serve as a core power of our clan!”
His eyes were finally open.
Sei looked at the Second Elder, an indescribable feeling rising within him.
As he turned to find his two sons, the old man called out to him:
“Sei…
all of my personal assets from this day forth are at your full disposal to invest in the clan.
As for future Soul Slayer Blades…
use my money to pay Kaito.
Do not accept a discount; pay the boy full price.
No, pay him even higher!”
Sei was stunned: “Old man…
you changed your tune that fast?”
“Hmph!
You were right about two things,” the Second Elder turned his back, his aging figure suddenly looking resolute.
“You are a proper Clan Head, and this…
truly belongs to the era of these kids.”
He walked away heavily.
For all his feudal conservatism, strictness, and harshness, at the end of the day, his entire life had been dedicated solely to the Gojo name.
.
.
.
In the training yard, the atmosphere felt frozen in awe.
Everyone present—from servants to guard sorcerers—could not maintain their usual composure.
They stood rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the lethal beauty enveloping the space.
Tobu stood quietly in the middle of that pink storm.
As she watched, she scoffed lightly at herself:
“Holding a sword for less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, and he already unleashes its release…
To think people actually used to call me a genius.
How ridiculous.”
Only today did Tobu truly understand the definition of the word “genius.” She cast a subtle glance toward Kaito—who stood with arms crossed, calmly observing his creation.
One forged weapons that altered the rules of the world; the other touched it once and turned it into a legend.
When her eyes settled on Kaito, Tobu’s heart unexpectedly skipped a beat, an unnameable, complex emotion rising once again.
Unlike the others, Kaito showed no surprise at Satoru’s speed.
To him, his brother achieving this was as natural as the sun rising in the east.
He focused his eyes, observing the drifting “sea of flowers” even more closely:
Those were not uniform petals.
They were tens of thousands of microscopic blade fragments of varying shapes and sizes, moving in complete defiance of physical laws.
The terrifying part was that Satoru controlled them as effortlessly as if they were an extension of his own body.
“If so, the only person in the world who could withstand this attack…
is someone who possesses Limitless,” Kaito mentally evaluated.
And by sheer coincidence, the person executing it was the only person who currently possessed Limitless.
Satoru’s sword was a weapon that only he himself knew how to counter.
“Can you manipulate and clearly feel every single petal, Satoru?” Kaito asked.
Satoru was currently savoring this newfound sensation of power.
He lightly shifted the sword’s hilt, and a stream of cherry blossom petals instantly looped around him like a soft silk ribbon:
“Control is as easy as turning my palm.
But the interesting part is…
these petals let me sense everything in a very peculiar way.
When they blanket an object, I can immediately visualize its exact shape and structure.
It’s like a massive radar network.”
Kaito nodded slightly.
Combined with the analytical processing of the Six Eyes, Satoru had now truly become an entity with “no blind spots.” Close-quarters or long-range, defense or detection, Senbonzakura had filled every last gap in the strongest’s kit.
.
.
.
Satoru lightly tightened his grip.
The floating blade fragments in the air vibrated, then dissolved into flecks of light, converging back into the white hilt in his hand.
Not a single redundant sound.
Only absolute precision.
He rotated his wrist slightly, his gaze resting on the newly retracted blade.
“…Terrifying.”
A word spoken very softly.
But it wasn’t meant for himself.
Satoru’s gaze shifted.
It landed on Kaito.
He understood his own strength all too well.Understood it so thoroughly… that he had no need to prove it.
And because of that—he realized.The person standing before him… was anything but simple.The younger brother he had always defaulted to viewing as someone needing protection.
Was he truly weak?
That thought pulled him deep down.
It wasn’t a speculation.
It was a memory.
Ever since he was small, Satoru had been a genius.
He never had to try too hard.Never needed to prove anything to anyone.
Everything… naturally revolved around him.The gazes.
The expectations.
The awe.
And he had gotten used to it.
Used to it to the point… of taking it for granted.
Back when he lived alongside Kaito—he still cared for his brother.Yet somewhere within that care… there always existed a distance.
A tiny, subtle emotion.Hard to catch.Pity.
Until Kaito left.
That day, after training—Satoru had suddenly paused.
Just a tiny detail.
His mother’s steps… were slower than usual.
He didn’t ask much.
He simply walked over.
Supported her.”Are you alright, Mother?”Without waiting for an answer, he escorted her to the medical ward.
The result—was enough to make him fall silent.
Physical exhaustion.Severe damage to the left side of her body.
Even reverse cursed technique… could only maintain her state.It couldn’t heal her.
Only prolong her time.
Later—when returning to her room to grab her things—Satoru stopped.A notebook.
Lying open.
He hadn’t intended to read it.
Then—a name caught his eye.
Kaito.
Simple lines of text.
Unadorned.
Uncomplicated.Yet every single word… felt suffocatingly heavy.
Kaito has remarkably sharp intuition.
Always paying attention to everyone.
Always observing.
Always understanding.
Always by Satoru’s side.
And—always walking on Mother’s left.
Everyone thought—it was because he was weak.
Nestling close out of vulnerability.But it wasn’t that.
He had noticed.
His mother’s physical condition.
From a very long time ago.Long before—their mother herself realized.Long before—Satoru realized.
The paper trembled slightly.
“…The Strongest?”
A quiet laugh escaped his lips.
Unclear whether it was a genuine laugh—or self-mockery.
The Strongest—who failed to notice what mattered most.Failed to protect.
Failed to understand.Then—what was the point of being strong?
Reality pulled his consciousness back to the present.
Satoru stood there.
Looking at Kaito.
Saying nothing.
“What is it?”Kaito’s voice rang out.
Calm.
As usual.
Satoru blinked.
Then his lips curled upward.
“Ah, nothing.””Just thinking about how to use this power.”
A perfect response.
Light enough.
Natural enough.
Revealing nothing.
And then—the familiar person returned.
“Ha.”Satoru chuckled softly.”Looks like I really am the strongest now.”
His gaze flicked over to Tobu.
“Hey, crazy girl—””Still haven’t released yours yet?””Don’t tell me you’ve gotten weaker?”
“Hmph.”Tobu knit her brows.
She didn’t answer, but her eyes visibly chilled.
“Do you mean to insult me too?”Shouko smiled.A smile—completely devoid of warmth.
Satoru’s breath hitched for a split second.A cold shiver ran down his spine.
“Satoru really is—”Shouko tilted her head.”Perfect… as long as he doesn’t open his mouth.”
“Spot on.”
No one objected.Tobu and Otome looked at each other, in complete agreement.